


Discovering Jim Kirk

by scifishipper



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Time, KSBigBang2014, M/M, Mentions of Child Abuse and Neglect, Romance, adult criminal behavior, family themes, the underage warning is for brief consensual 17 year old shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-17 04:47:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2297135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scifishipper/pseuds/scifishipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At seventeen, Jim Hargrove discovers who he really is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Discovering Jim Kirk

**Author's Note:**

> Set in an AU where Jim grows up without knowing the truth of his parents' participation in Starfleet.
> 
> Written for the K/S Big Bang 2014.

Jim coughed into his sleeve, barely moving the hacking thickness in his chest. He saw crackling light at the edges of his vision and held onto the shovel handle to stay upright. He was stooped over, sweating, and more exhausted than he’d ever felt before. 

“Jim! Let’s get moving, damnit!” Frank stomped over to him, glaring. “Gonna be dark soon.”

“Okay. Sorry,” Jim said, gasping a breath and digging his shovel hard into the ground. There were a hundred other things he wanted to say, _fuck you_ being at the top of the list, but he couldn’t. Not yet. 

Jim kicked at the shovel blade with his foot, digging out the existing hole, silently cursing Frank instead. Didn’t he know he was sick? He’d been barely able to stand long enough to brush his teeth this morning, but here he was digging post holes and hauling fencing in from town. 

A few minutes later, Frank’s shrill laugh caught his attention. He was a couple of meters away, laughing as he talked on his comm. Asshole. Jim hacked a cough again, pushing through the dizziness to get down another couple of inches. 

After another hour, Frank had finally helped him position the last of the posts and rails, setting them tight into the ground. With a growling stomach and a spinning head, Jim climbed into their old pickup and slammed the door closed. 

Frank dropped the truck in gear and drove the two kilometers back toward the house. “Drop me off at the house and you can dump off the broken fence pieces at Malcolm’s. I talked to him already and he’ll put the credits on our account. Here’s a tenner for dinner in town. Pick up something for you and the kid. I’m going out tonight.” Frank tossed a credit chip toward him and it slid down into the seat crack. Jim fished it out, mumbling thanks. 

Twenty-five minutes later, Jim was pulling broken fence posts and rails off the truck bed and stacking them in neat piles. His vision was kinda blurry, but he could see well enough to finish the job. Damn, he was so tired. He paused to take a breath, shallow so he didn’t start choking again. When his vision swam, he held onto truck gate for support. 

“Hey, Jimbo!” Malcolm’s voice came up behind him. “Whoa,” he said, “you look like shit.” 

Jim gave a wan smile. “Nah. I’m okay.” He turned away, used to avoiding questions about himself. Living with Frank had taught him that early.

“You sure? Lookin’ kinda pale.” Malcolm went to the other side of the truck and pulled out the last of the long rails. 

“Yeah. I’m go—” Jim’s fingers slipped off the side of the truck and he felt his knees weaken, bending against his will and sending him to the ground. Malcolm’s voice was muffled and he couldn’t breathe to answer him when he called out.

“Jim, Jim! Fuck.” He felt hands on his shoulders, shaking. “Aw hell, man.” The hands moved away and there was nothing more.

~*~

Jim woke sometime later to chattering teeth and a burning feeling inside his chest. He tried to breathe again and sit up. He rubbed at something inside his nose but someone stopped him.

“Hey, take it easy. You’re in the hospital.” 

Jim blinked and squinted at a man’s face looming over him, cool fingers holding his hands in place. He relaxed and the man let go.

“I’m Doctor McCoy. Your friend brought you in a couple of hours ago. How long have you been sick?” The doctor tapped against a PADD.

“Couple of weeks,” Jim answered roughly. His chest felt like it was in a vise. 

“Well, Mr. Hargrove, you have pneumonia. It’s treatable, but right now your lungs are a mess. Should have seen a doctor back when you first got sick.” The man sounded irritated and Jim closed his eyes, feeling nauseated. He hadn’t seen a doctor in a couple of years and the idea hadn’t really crossed his mind.

“Anyway. Anyone I should call for you? Your ID says you’re only seventeen. Got folks?” 

“Uh, yeah. Frank Hargrove. Malcolm, guy who brought me, he has the number.” 

“That your dad?” The doctor asked.

“Yeah. Sort of.” Jim didn’t meet the man’s eyes. He knew Frank wasn’t his real dad, he’d been reminded of it often enough, but he wasn’t all bad. Just wouldn’t be too thrilled to hear he’d passed out at Malcolm’s.

McCoy raised an eyebrow. “Okay. You sure you want me to call him?”

“Yeah. I guess. What time is it?” Jim glanced around the room for a clock.

“About ten-thirty.”

“Shit. Yeah. Was supposed to be home around nine.” Jim struggled to sit up again. 

“Whoa, now. Take it easy. You’re gonna be visiting with us for a couple of days. 

“A couple of days?” Jim let his head flop back onto the pillow. “No. I can’t. I have things to do.” _Travis._

“Well, it’s gonna have to wait. Is there someone else we can call? Just this Frank person?” McCoy was peering at Jim in a way that made his heart race faster. 

“I have a little brother, Travis. He’s only eleven. He’ll be missing me.” Jim’s voice was thin and reedy. Travis didn’t sleep too well and he’d be a wreck if Jim wasn’t home.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine. Get some sleep.” The doctor gave Jim a stern expression and walked away, dimming the lights on his way out.

~*~

Breaking out of the hospital was easy. He’d just pulled the plug on the monitoring computer and waited until the hallway was clear. His chest hurt like hell, but it wouldn’t kill him. In the hospital parking lot, he was able to hot wire an old beater and drove himself home.

The porch light was on and Jim saw the glow of the kitchen light through the front door. He slipped inside, and closed the door quietly behind him.

“Jimmy?” a small voice popped up. He glanced over to see the boy tucked into the orange plaid recliner, a PADD in his lap lighting his face with its sliver flicker.

“Yeah, Trav, I’m here. You okay?” Jim felt like shit and all he wanted was his bed.

“Yeah. Where you been? Frank’s not home.”

“Shit. Sorry, buddy.” Fucker had left Travis on his own again so he could go get hammered. 

“Got held up. Did you eat?” Jim ruffled Travis’ brown hair and headed toward the kitchen.

“Yeah. Made a sandwich.” His voice sounded behind Jim.

The kitchen counter was a sticky mess of peanut butter and jelly. “Yeah, I see that. Who won? You or the jelly?” he called toward the living room, trying not to hack up a lung.

“You look like shit,” Travis said, startling Jim with his appearance at the kitchen sink. He was already in his favorite superhero pajamas, with too-short pantlegs and t-shirt with a frayed collar.

“Hey. Watch your mouth.” Jim scolded, screwing the cap back onto the jelly, absently licking his fingers to taste strawberry as he slid it into the refrigerator. 

“You say it,” the boy protested, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’m seventeen. When you’re seventeen, you can say it, too. Anyway. It’s pretty rude to say someone looks like shit.” 

Travis stuck out his tongue and left the kitchen. Jim wiped down the counter and washed the dishes his brother had used. He tried to feel like everything was normal, he was just cleaning up, getting ready for bed. He moved slowly, though, like he was in tar, and tried to ignore how he couldn’t really breathe. He was good at rationalizing, remembered he’d heard of people with pneumonia being just fine. Now that the fence was done, he could just do his regular chores and get Travis off to school. 

“Hey, Travis,” Jim called, one hand on the banister to the upstairs. “Let’s go up. It’s past your bedtime and Ms. Grier’s gonna be mad if you fall asleep in class again.”

“Okay, five minutes? This video’s almost over,” The boy answered, distracted.

“All right. Five minutes. But that’s it. Turn off the light, okay?”

“Yup.” 

Jim trudged up the stairs and stripped off his clothes, trying to rally enough energy to take a quick shower. He smelled terrible. 

He stepped into the tub and sighed as the cool stream of water cascaded over his body. He heard the squeaking floorboards of Travis coming upstairs just as he was twisting off the shower. He grabbed a towel and dried off. He stopped twice to hold onto the wall. Damn. He was so tired.

“Can I sleep with you?” Travis asked, tapping on the door. It was one of the few ways that warded off Travis’s nightmares, but Jim didn’t think it was a good idea unless things got really bad. 

“School tomorrow, buddy. Come on and brush your teeth.” Jim wrapped a threadbare gray towel around his waist and pulled the door open. The pair edged past each other in the narrow space and Jim padded to his room to slip into shorts and a t-shirt.

A few minutes later, he sat on the edge of Travis’s bed and the boy climbed in. “How’d school go today?”

“Good. I get to work with Vince on the Roman Empire project. I think we’re gonna make a gladiator costume. It’ll be awesome!” Travis grinned, showing the gap between his teeth as he pulled the blanket over his legs. “I can’t wait. We’re gonna start it tomorrow.”

“I bet it’ll be great. A-plus for sure.” Jim returned the smile and kissed his brother on the head. “I’ll be right next door, bud. Good night.”

“Night, Jim.” 

~*~

“Jim!” Travis’s frightened call made Jim sit upright with a shock.

“Travis. I’m coming!” He threw his blanket aside and lunged off the bed, ignoring the swirling room and with the help of the bedpost and door frame, made it to the hallway. What he saw took his breath away.

He blinked, dazed, and gripped the doorjamb. “What the fuck?” 

“James Hargrove?” A deep voice startled him just as much as the tall figure on the landing. The blue and red lights flickered against the man’s cleanshaven face and uniform. 

“What’s going on?” Jim’s vision cleared, but his heart was racing.

“State police, Mr. Hargrove. Trooper Dave Mills.” The man took a step forward and Jim could see Travis peeking around the tall figure, eyes wide and frightened. 

“What are you doing here? Travis?” Jim hit the light just inside his bedroom door and illuminated the hallway. The man’s face was kinder than Jim expected.

“It’s okay, son. We’re not gonna hurt you. Either of you.” The trooper, spoke into a shoulder comm. “We’ve got both of them here. Safe. No sign of Hargrove.”

“Frank? What’s happening?” Jim asked, his mind tearing through the possible bad things that could have happened.

“Why don’t you get dressed and come downstairs. We’ll answer your questions.” The man was not unkind, but Jim had been shoved around enough he didn’t trust anyone. Uniform or not.

“I’m not going anywhere. I want to know what the fuck is happening? Why the hell did you come busting in on my house? Where’s Frank?” Jim glanced down the stairs, seeing nothing but the flashing lights of the police cruiser outside.

“Okay, take it easy, Jim. We got a call from Mercy Hospital, said you left against medical advice. More than that—” 

Jim cut him off. “So, what? They send the cops when someone doesn’t want to stay? This is crap!” Jim folded his arms across his chest and glared at the officer.

“No, James. It’s more than that. Look, let’s go downstairs. There’s a social worker coming and we’re going to sort this out.” The trooper took a step toward the stairs. “I’ll wait in the living room.” 

“A social worker? No way!” Jim took a step closer to his brother. “You’re not taking us anywhere. Travis goes to school, we’re both fine.” 

“Jim, what do you mean? Where are we going?” Travis rushed across the meter separating them and pressed himself against Jim’s side.

“Where’s dad?” the boy asked, voice unsteady.

Jim stroked his hair and shoulder. “I don’t know, buddy. Whatever it is, we’ll be okay, right?” Jim knelt down as he said it. They’d been a team for a long time, and they’d get through another crisis together.

With an uncertain nod, Travis grabbed Jim’s hand and the pair hesitantly followed the man downstairs. Travis sat on the recliner with his knees tucked up under him. Jim stood, assessing the second trooper who’d come into the house. The lights still flickered against the windowpane.

“Where’s Frank?” Jim asked. “He in trouble again?” He forced his voice to sound casual.

“Actually, he’s in a lot of trouble,” the second officer said.

Travis’s small voice piped up, eyes wide, “What happened? Is he okay?”

Officer Mills interrupted. “It’d be better if we could speak to you first, James.” 

Jim hesitated and then tipped his head toward the front door. “Outside.” He pointed to Travis. “You say here. I’ll be right outside the door. Okay?”

“I’ll stay with him,” the second officer said. “I’m Trooper Reynolds, by the way. Have a boy of my own, just about Travis’s age.”

Jim gave the man a stern expression and followed the first officer outside.

The door closed and Jim whirled on the man. “You want to tell me why the hell you’re scaring my brother? It’s two fucking o’clock in the morning.”

“I’m going to have to ask you to calm down, James.” The trooper’s voice was calm but firm and Jim took a breath. Shit.

“Look, it’s Jim. No one calls me James. Tell me what’s going on.” He kept his voice even, eyes trained on the trooper.

“We have reason to believe you and your brother are the victims of a kidnapping, almost ten years ago.”

Jim stared at him, thinking he must be hallucinating from his pneumonia. “Bullshit.”

“You’ve moved around a lot since your mother died, right? Started when your brother was a baby?”

“Yeah, what of it? It’s been hard for Frank to find work. Been here for two years, though.”

“Jim, I don’t know how to say this except to say it, but your stepfather, Frank Hargrove, is not your legal guardian and the two of you have been listed as missing for a decade.”

“What? What do you mean?” He felt his mouth drop open and his ears started to buzz. Jim gripped the handrail and sat down heavily on the front steps. Vague memories started to filter in, driving really fast and hiding out. Meeting lots of different people and changing schools all the time. The rule that he couldn’t ever talk about his family. 

“Fuck. Oh, my god.” He rubbed his face as if he could rub this truth right out of existence. His life had sucked, but this…this was unbelievable. 

“How?” Jim asked, mouth trying to say more but failing. It barely made sense. His entire life seemed unreal. 

“He’s a good con man, Jim. This farm of yours…belonged to a family who needed quick cash. Frank came up with it and here you are.”

Jim shook his head. “Frank said it had been his grandmother’s and she passed. Shit.” Jim let his head fall into his hands. How was he going to explain this to Travis?

“I think your life is going to change a lot now, Jim. And Travis’s. We’re keeping things quiet for now, but your parents…well, they were kind of famous and when the press finds out you’ve been discovered, they’re…well, it’s going to be a lot of pressure.”

“What do you mean?” Jim couldn’t comprehend what the officer was saying. The ground around him started to move and he felt the sensation of being underwater, his lungs filling and being unable to breathe. “Travis…” was the last word he choked out before he passed out again.

~*~

“Bet you’re feeling good now, aren’t ya?” Doctor McCoy said with a twist to his mouth as he stepped through the curtain around Jim’s bed in the Emergency Room. 

Jim blinked at him, not sure if he heard right. “Uh, yeah.” 

“You know, I get you had a hot date or something, but I told you to rest, not sneak out when I had my back turned.” McCoy snapped the curtain closed and moved closer, glancing at Jim’s face and then the monitor above his head. “You goddamn kids have no sense. Can’t wait to have a couple hundred of you idiots at Starfleet next month.”

“Huh?” Jim asked, bewildered by the doctor’s attitude. Maybe the pneumonia was warping his brain.

“Nevermind, kid. How are you feeling?” The doctor asked, voice less sharp.

“Chest hurts,” Jim answered with effort.

“I bet it does. Pneumonia’s no joke, you know! You’re on a heavy dose of antibiotics, but it’s gonna take a while to feel back to normal. Right now, your lungs are in bad shape. You need to stay in that bed for a while and no Houdini escapes.”

“Shit,” Jim said, shaking his head. Wasn’t he just with the police? Had that really happened? “Where’s my brother?”

“Charming a pretty nurse down the hall.” McCoy checked Jim’s IV. “He’s fine, kid. You’re both gonna be fine.” The man’s voice held a note of resignation that made something click inside Jim’s head.

“Wait. Was it you? You called the state troopers?” Jim sputtered, words sound weak and thin. “I never asked for your help. We were fine.” He gripped the side rail when a wave of dizziness struck.

“Look, kid. I don’t know you and you don’t know me, but I can definitely tell you, medically, you are not fine. Damn near forty percent lung functioning, at least nine old fractures, two of them ribs, and probably a hell of a lot more if you’d tell us. But I am guessing that isn’t gonna happen, is it?” McCoy rolled his eyes at Jim. 

“It’s no one’s business,” Jim barked, feeling like a defiant kid, but some part believed it was true. They’d always done okay on their own.

“Look kid, this is my business, whether you want it to be or not, and gonna be a lot of other people’s business soon enough. Before all that happens, though, you need to sleep. When you’re better, there are some people who need to talk to you. Till then, your room is under guard, so don’t try anything stupid.” McCoy opened his eyes so wide his face looked like a cartoon.

“Man, are you sure you’re a doctor? More like a prison warden,” Jim shot back, setting his jaw defiantly.

“If the shoe fits…” The doctor quipped back, and a moment later, he was gone.

~*~

“Yeah, but I don’t understand. I mean, we went to school and everything? How did he do it? Why didn’t anyone catch on?” Jim asked the woman sitting at his bedside with a PADD propped against her knee. Detective Nouri, as she introduced herself, was a middle-aged woman with dark skin and close-cropped white hair who’d arrived only shortly after he’d managed to eat and go to the bathroom. The antibiotics were definitely helping his body, but his head was still thick with shock at the news about what Frank had done.

The detective shrugged. “Luck? And a knack for sniffing out trouble. We think he moved you every time he got wind of a problem, or when people started asking too many questions.”

“Yeah, we moved around a lot. Didn’t finish out the year at most schools, but somehow, we always started the very next grade. I don’t get it. Why would he do this? He…why me? I’m not even his kid. Hated me. But Travis… I know he loved him, but he wasn’t ever around. I raised him more than Frank.” 

“I think he needed you to look after him, Jim. You did a good job. Travis is a sweet kid.” The woman smiled and for the first time, Jim felt emotion stinging his eyes. 

“I love him. He’s everything to me. Is he okay? I mean really okay?” Jim had only seen him for a few minutes before the social worker left with him for the day. 

“Yeah. Mr. Yon said he is a little shaken up, but mostly because you were sick. He said the ambulance really scared him.” 

“Fuck. Oh, sorry! I mean, yeah,” Jim blushed at his cursing in front of the detective. “He gets startled by little things and is always afraid something bad’s going to happen. I guess it makes sense. We never knew when we were going to move — Frank would just show up, breathing heavy and freaking out. We learned not to get too attached to anything. Even now, after two years in Illinois, I have just enough stuff to fill my backpack. Things don’t matter too much.”

“Jim, I need to ask you some tough questions and I need you to be honest with me. We haven’t caught up with Frank yet, but we will, and when we do, we want to make sure it all sticks.” Detective Nouri frowned and gave Jim a steady stare.

“Yeah, okay. I understand.” Jim took a drink of water to ease the knot in his throat, and began to answer her questions.

~*~

“Jimmy!” Travis shouted and hurled himself onto Jim’s bed. The boy’s bright laughter caused a grin to spread across Jim’s face.

“Hey, buddy! How’s it going?” He hugged him hard and fought back tears. “My god, what’ve you been eating? You’re so heavy.” Jim grunted and pretended to be crushed by the ninety-five-pound kid. 

“Yeah, right? But guess what?! Mr. Yon took me for pancakes with whipped cream and chocolate! For dinner!” Travis pulled back, hands still on Jim’s shoulders, face animated. Jim could just picture the chocolate mess his face must have been. 

“Aw, man. I am so jealous. You know what I had? Chicken broth. Ugh!” Jim pulled a face and Travis groaned along with him.

At that moment, Mr. Yon appeared at the doorway, a tired smile nestled in a full dark beard. “Hi, Jim. We had a full day. I’m going to give you guys a little while and then I’ll take Travis down to the Center. He has a room for the next couple of days, supervised, and then we can talk about what comes next.”

“Sure, okay.” Jim kept the hearty smile on his face for Travis. “Hey…look what Nurse Evans gave me.” Jim opened the drawer next to him and produced a pack of cards. “You wanna play some War?”

“Okay!” the boy answered brightly. He waved to Mr. Yon and Jim nodded as the man left.

“Move the tray table between us. I’ll get my bed up higher. You wanna deal?” When Travis nodded, Jim handed him the deck and watched as he tried to shuffle without spilling them everywhere.

As Travis began to deal, Jim looked at his small face, dark eyes framed with long lashes and a nose that sometimes seemed too big for his face. His hair needed a cut, Jim could see, and he reached out to fluff it. Travis gave a crooked smile, still focused on distributing the cards. For all they’d been through, thank god Frank had never touched Travis. Jim swallowed, knowing he’d taken most of it himself. He just tried not to let Travis see the bruises.

“Done,” Travis said after he’d divided the cards between them. He flipped his first card and Jim threw down his card. Travis grinned and swiped up his win. “You know you don’t have a chance,” he crowed.

“Yeah, right,” Jim answered. “I seem to remember the triple war and getting two of your aces last week.”

“Bullshit. That was a double war and only one ace.” 

“Hey. No swearing.” Jim looked down his nose at his little brother and he dropped a three onto the table.

“Okay…” Travis threw down another card, also a three. “Ha! War.” 

Travis laughed when he won, dragging the cards off the table and into a messy pile on his lap. They played a couple more hands, and the game started to even out, with Jim’s pile growing. 

“So, when do you think we’ll see dad again?” Travis asked, looking at Jim for a quick moment.

“I don’t know. But things aren’t gonna be the same. You know that, right? Mr. Yon talked to you?”

Travis shrugged, his brow crinkling as they threw matching queens. 

“We’re gonna be okay. I’m going to try to get legal custody of you. We’re not gonna be separated. I won’t let that happen.”

Jim won the war of the queens and Travis paused, not throwing his next card. Instead, he flicked it against the edge of the table. “Did he really do what they said? Kidnap us?”

“Kind of?” Jim answered. “It’s not that simple. I don’t really understand it myself. I guess we were supposed to go live with mom’s parents, our grandparents, but Frank never took us. I don’t really remember it. I was only a little kid. After mom died everything was just different.” Jim felt his insides curl. He tried hard not to think about his mother’s death, how the last time he saw her was when she dropped him off at school in the rain. That day, one of the teachers had driven him home. He remembered feeling so special that she’d chosen him. He hadn’t realized what it actually meant.

Travis kept flipping cards and sliding his winning cards into his lap. “Ha! You lost an ace. You’re going down!” he said, thumping the tray table.

“You wish!” Jim countered and the two played through the deck and around again until Travis won ten straight and Jim was out of cards. “You got me, kiddo. I totally lost that war.” Jim slumped back into his pillow and yawned wide. He was exhausted. 

“You wanna straighten out the cards and put the tray back?” Jim pulled the stiff sheets up to his chest and watched as Travis wrestled the messy pile, spitting blue cards onto the floor one after the other, but finally managing to wrangle them. “You count ‘em? Or maybe you put an ace up your sleeve?” Jim winked and Travis gave him a baleful expression. 

“Really? I’m not the one who cheats…” Travis slapped the cards onto the table and rolled it out of the way.

“That was one time!” Jim exclaimed, trying not to burst into laughter. His chest hurt too much for that.

“Maybe I should check your sleeves…” Travis snaked a hand under Jim’s hospital gown, tickling him unexpectedly.

“No! Trav. Stop!” Jim gasped and then started coughing. The combination of laughing and coughing made him feel sick and dizzy and he flopped back onto the pillow. Travis’s eyes were wide.

“Hey. I’m okay. Just not a hundred percent yet. Doc said it would take a couple of days.” Jim reached out for Travis and the boy climbed up on the bed. Jim tucked him under the blanket and offered him the bed control. “You wanna lower it? It’s that button there.” 

Travis pressed the button a couple of times to lower the mattress halfway, then tucked himself into Jim’s side. He looped a thin arm around Jim's waist and held on. Jim inhaled the clean scent of Travis’s hair and held him back.

~*~

“My god, you look just like your dad,” a sharp voice said, startling Jim. A uniformed man with graying hair walked into his room.

“Uh…hey,” Jim answered, rubbing his eyes and sitting up in the bed. He felt stiff, but his lungs were lighter.

“Sorry.” The man blinked and smiled, reaching out a hand. “I’m Chris Pike. I was a friend of your parents.” He stared at Jim with wide blue eyes as Jim shook his hand.

“Nice to meet you.” Jim brushed his hand against his face, self-conscious. He felt a thickening patch of stubble and realized he hadn’t had a shower in three days.

Chris pulled a plastic chair closer to Jim’s bed and sat, yanking his uniform jacket down as he got comfortable. “This must be a shock for you…” Chris started.

“Yeah. A little bit. The detective told me my dad was in Starfleet, but I kind of didn’t believe it.” Jim swallowed as he let his eyes drift to the sharp lines of Chris’s uniform. 

Chris nodded. “Yeah. He was. So was your mother. She never told you?” The man’s eyes looked sad.

“No. I mean, maybe? I guess I might have known because it doesn’t feel like a surprise. I have vague memories of uniforms, but Frank told me that never happened. I guess I just forgot. I’d just turned seven when she crashed.” Jim was still processing all of the memories, trying to separate the lies from the truths. The reality of it, that it had all been lies, made his head hurt.

“It was real. Your mom was as lively as they get, but I guess you knew that. Your dad, though…” Chris ran a hand through his hair. “You really do look like him. Same coloring, similar face. I can’t believe your mother isn’t going to see you grow up. Or Travis. Never met him. He look like you?”

“Nah. Takes more after Frank. Dark hair and eyes. Such a great kid, though. Sucks he never had a mom around.” Jim dropped his eyes and played with the edge of the sheet. He had no idea what to do with all of this. 

“From what I heard, you’ve taken good care of him. What Hargrove did… it’s unbelievable. We searched for you but came up with dead ends for about two years. All our leads said you went off planet and from there…well, it’s harder to track. Lots of places to hide.”

Jim huffed a bitter laugh. “Franks never flies. Hates it.”

“Huh. Isn’t that something? Your parents loved space, loved each other. I’m guessing you don’t know anything about it do you? About your dad or mom or what they did in Starfleet?”

With a shake of his head, Jim gave a crooked smile. “Nope.” He didn’t know what else to say. He was so overwhelmed he couldn’t even think of questions.

“Well, first off. You’re Jim Kirk, not Hargrove. Your father was George Kirk and your birth certificate lists you as James Tiberius Kirk.”

“Tiberius? What kind of name is that?” Jim wrinkled his brow. Weird.

“Grandfather on your dad’s side, Jim. We have no record Winona ever changed your name, and as soon as you’re ready, we’ll set things up for you.”

“What do you mean? Set things up? Like identity? I have to change my name?” It was who he’d been his whole life.

“No, you don’t have to do anything, Jim. You’ve been through a lot and probably more to come. Right now, take your time, get comfortable with the facts. I don’t want to overwhelm you. And actually, I was expressly warned not to overwhelm you with too much information.”

“Really?” Jim raised his eyebrows, trying hard to imagine anyone giving this guy orders.

“You’ve met Doctor McCoy, right? Not a man to cross. He’d have my ass out of here in a minute flat.” Chris chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. 

“Hmmph. Yeah. I’m pretty much a prisoner.” 

The humor settled into an easier silence and Jim licked his lips, glancing at Chris. “So, what happened exactly? I mean, after mom died? I don’t remember it much. How’d Frank…how’d he take us?” It was hard to get himself to say the words, to admit Frank had been hiding him for almost his whole life.

“After the funeral, your mother’s parents were supposed to come get you and take you to their farm on Altus III. Their transport had some engine trouble and they were delayed two weeks. By the time they got to Riverside, there was no sign of you. I tried, Jim. We all tried to find you…your mom and dad — they were important. Not just to me, but to Starfleet. Losing your dad was rough, Jim. And your mom…she just wasn’t the same after he died.”

“What happened? How?” Jim felt the weight of the answer before he’d even finished the question. His insides flipped, like when he took a turn too fast and thought his hoverbike would spin out.

Pike eased back more into his chair and sighed. “It started with a crazy Romulan named Nero.” 

~*~

_You can’t be Travis’s guardian._

The words rang through Jim’s head as he jammed his legs into a pair of jeans. In three days, his entire life had gone crazy and now they wanted him and his brother to go off-world to stay with a woman they’d never met. Frank was in the wind and there was a whole lot of shit Jim just didn’t understand. He’d had his chance to ask Captain Pike, but he was so overwhelmed he could barely even think.

“Fuck,” he swore as his foot tangled in a twisted pant leg, throwing him off balance and up against the bed for support. 

He sat heavily, pulling up the jeans and breathing hard. He felt a hell of a lot better than he had before, but he was hungry, tired, and gross. All he wanted to do was go home with Travis, take a long hot shower and go for pizza. Just like they used to. Now it was all fucked. 

“Keep going that way and you’re gonna end up on the floor.” The unmistakable drawl of Doctor McCoy sounded from the doorway.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be? Some other patients to harass?” Jim snapped, tired of being so fucking nice to everyone. It got him nowhere. 

“Hell, no. You’re my favorite!” McCoy strolled in and gave him the once over. “Your color’s good. Seem energetic enough, the way you’re wrestling with those clothes… Guess you’re ready to get out of here”?

“Damn straight,” Jim barked, finally getting his pants on and zipped. 

“All right, calm down. You’re leaving, and thank god, because you’re a pain in the ass.” McCoy ran a scanner across Jim’s chest. “Healing well, Jim. Looks like you can get back to … whatever seventeen year-olds do these days.”

“Yeah. Well, this seventeen year old doesn’t have shit to do, no money, and no brother after tomorrow.” He pulled his leather jacket off a nearby chair and shoved his arms into it.

“Tough break, kid. But I thought you were going to Altus III, too. Heard the weather’s nice…and flat as hell, just like the Midwest. You’ll love it.” 

“Travis is going. I’m not. I don’t understand why they won’t let him stay with me? I’ve been raising him!” Jim leaned against the bed, feeling exhausted just from dressing. Fuck.

“She’s _your_ grandmother, too. Maybe going there would be good for you. Damn sure better than moping around like a puppy dog.”

Jim gaped at him. “How do you know all this shit? Isn’t there confidentiality and stuff?” 

“Kid, this place has more gossip than a quilting bee after the Spring dance. They don’t know the important details, but Travis is a charmer. Half the nurses want to adopt the kid.”

“Great. Everyone gets a shot but me.” Jim felt himself pouting and let it happen. He was sick of being bowled right over.

“Look, Jim. Way I see it is you’ve got a choice here. You can mope and whine about how unfair it is, or take a free ride to another goddamn planet. You’re seventeen! Haven’t you been sitting in your bedroom, whacking off thinking about _going into space_?” McCoy pinned him with a wild gaze and Jim blinked hard. The guy was nuts.

“Uh…no!” Jim pushed himself off the bed, face growing hot. He grabbed the deck of cards out of the drawer, along with a little plastic frog he’d gotten from Travis the day before.

“Well, whatever. Figure it out or don’t. Just don’t end up back in here. And if you’re sick, go to the doctor!”

“All right. Can I go?” Jim faced him, angry and not really wanting to be yelled at any more.

McCoy rubbed a hand across his face and sighed. “Jim. Life’s tough. We go through a lot of shit we don’t expect and it’s hard. Don’t let what Frank did define you. Figure out what you want to do with your life. You have a lot more options than you can even imagine. And contact Chris when you’re ready. Starfleet’s an option, Jim. And I shouldn't even tell you this, but I'm on my way there myself, as soon as classes start. Got reamed in a divorce and Chris convinced me to enlist." The man frowned. "I did it because it's a damn good idea, kid. Don't knock it.”

Jim pinched his lips together, not sure he liked this nice version of the doctor any more than the other. 

“Anyway, take care, Jim. And good luck.” McCoy squeezed his arm, spun around and strode out of the room.

~*~

The small farmhouse didn’t seem right without Travis. It was quieter, flatter, and more run-down than he’d ever allowed himself to see. It was better than their last place, couple of hundred miles north where the wind seeped through the wooden planks and Jim would tend the fire deep into the night to keep them warm. Frank slept like the dead, and, as always, Jim felt like he was the one making sure Travis was okay. 

They’d only lived there for a few months until a heavy Spring thaw sent ice crashing through the spindly porch, catching Frank’s shoulder as he came home late one night. They’d all piled into Frank’s truck at dawn and headed east. After two nights sleeping in their truck, Frank had come up with this place. A real house with a furnace and windows that weren’t all cracked. Jim even got his own room, the first he’d had one in as long as he could remember.

Now, Jim scanned his tiny bedroom, clothes piled on top of the dresser instead of inside, shoes scattered around the bag he’d carried them in with. He frowned and shook his head. Even after two years, he’d never moved in. Never trusted it. Now he knew why.

As evening settled, Jim swallowed down a sandwich and got the shower he’d desperately needed. When he emerged from the steamy bathroom, he passed by Frank’s room and looked away. He knew it would be empty, but…he still felt him. 

Jim huffed and strode into his room, wet feet slapping on the hardwood. He dressed quickly and threw his jacket back on. He needed to get out. 

The sky’s orange hue faded into the horizon as Jim took the path behind the house that led him through a cluster of thin trees to emerge at a small stream. It was no more than a meter wide, but it had become one of his favorite places. 

He sat in his usual spot, squinting into the night, and listening to the faint sounds of distant vehicles and the wind rustling the high grass.

“Is it customary for humans to sit in the dark with no purpose, Mr. Hargrove?” A voice from behind him made him jump, and Jim scrambled to his feet. 

“What the fuck? Who’s there?” Jim could make out the shadow of a person against the dimming evening sky.

“Lieutenant Spock, Mr. Hargrove. Captain Pike sent me to accompany you and your brother to Altus III.” The voice sounded oddly flat and Jim crept closer.

“He what?” Jim scrunched his face and put his hands on his hips.

“Do you wish me to repeat myself or are you expressing surprise?” 

“What? Who are you?” Jim gaped into the dark.

“Lieutenant Spock. Captain Pike sent me to—”

“—yeah I got that. I mean, what are you doing sneaking up on me and scaring the shit out of me?” Jim demanded.

“My intent was not to alarm you, Mr. Hargrove. Simply to find you and announce my presence.”

“Well, you sure did that.” Jim approached the figure. “Come on. It’s creepy talking to a stranger in the dark.” Jim made a wide arc around Lieutenant Spock and led them back toward the house. In the dim light of the back porch, Jim turned and took in his visitor.

“Holy crap! You’re Vulcan!” Jim grinned wide, immediately enthralled. 

“Indeed,” Spock said and Jim grinned harder. 

“You must get that reaction a lot,” Jim said, rudely leaning closer to look at Spock’s ears.

“Would you like to take a picture, Mr. Hargrove?” Spock asked, blinking mildly at Jim.

“What?? Oh, my god. Did you just make a joke?” Jim laughed, a full and deep guffaw that made him start to cough. “Oh, fuck,” he gasped. He’d been taking it so easy and now his lungs were seizing up again. Gripping the handrail, he waited for the coughing fit to pass. His eyes watered and he swiped them with the back of his hand. “Sorry.” 

“Are you in need of medical assistance?” Spock asked.

“No, I’m fine. The doctor said it would take a while for my lungs to clear. Maybe a couple of weeks.” Jim shrugged and put one foot onto the low-sitting porch. 

“It is gratifying to know your illness is not more severe. Captain Pike apprised me of your recent hospitalization.”

“And of everything else, I assume?” Jim looked away from the Vulcan and felt his shoulders slump a little.

“I am aware of the actions of your stepfather, Frank Hargrove, and of your current status as an orphan.”

“An orphan? What?” Jim sputtered. “Jesus.” He stepped up onto the porch and went inside, leaving the screen door slamming closed after him.

Jim leaned on the counter, arms folded across his chest. That word burned. He wasn’t a fucking orphan. The nerve of this guy! His mind tumbled, confusion making it hard to know what to do or think or feel. 

A firm knock at the back door made Jim’s head snap up. 

“Mr. Hargrove, may I enter?” Spock was on the other side, face illuminated through the screen.

“Whatever,” Jim snapped, vaguely aware he was being an asshole.

“I have come to understand that phrase as an indication of anger. Your quick retreat into the house suggests the same,” Spock said as he pulled open the door and stepped inside.

Jim looked over at him and was startled to see the Vulcan was hardly older than him, maybe just a couple of years. “Hey, you’re my age! How’d you get to be a lieutenant so fast? Doesn’t that take a while?”

“I am Vulcan and thus my learning vastly accelerated in comparison to the other Starfleet cadets at the Academy. My studies were condensed and I have been an officer for nearly two years.”

“How old are you?” Jim asked, eyes scanning the Vulcan’s expressionless face, pointed ears, and that weird straight haircut across his forehead. Despite all that, he was actually pretty hot.

“In Terran years, my age is twenty-one years.” Spock stood with his legs slightly parted, hands behind his back. His uniform was perfectly stiff, framing his lean body nicely.

“How old is that in Vulcan years?” Jim asked, curious.

“Twenty-three,” Spock answered, his eyes steady on Jim.

“Huh. Cool.” Jim nodded, turning the facts around in his head. “How’d you get this assignment anyway? Shouldn’t you be out on a starship or something? Or doing cool research with your giant brain?” He’d heard all Vulcans were geniuses compared to humans.

“I can assure you my brain capacity is merely two-point-six percent larger than the average human brain. It is in no way ‘giant’.”

Jim chuckled. “You’re funny. Anyone ever tell you that?” 

“That is not the usual response I receive. No.” Spock tilted his head and seemed to be assessing Jim.

“Huh,” Jim said again and then blushed. He was an idiot. “Look, hey. You want to sit? You want something to drink?” 

“I do not require a beverage, but I will sit as you have requested.” Spock pulled out one of the wooden chairs and sat stiffly.

“Sorry about being a jerk out there. I just…this is a lot to take in. And I’m not going to Altus III, by the way. My brother’s going. I’m staying here.” Jim pulled out a chair across from Spock, but didn’t sit.

“I was informed you might reject the offer to live with your grandmother, but I must admit I do not understand.” Spock tilted his head.

“What’s to understand? Earth is my home. I don’t want to go to Altus III, even if she’s my only family. I have things to do.”

“What things?” Spock asked. “It was my understanding you do not attend school and without your brother to care for, you, in fact, have nothing to do.” 

Jim blinked rapidly at the Vulcan, trying to decide if he had just been insulted. “Uh…sort of?” he answered, letting Spock’s weird comment go. Truth be told, he was more curious than annoyed.

“Explain,” Spock said.

Jim finally flipped his chair backwards and straddled it, letting his arms drape over the back. “I’m practically eighteen, Spock. There are a lot of things I could do. I don’t know. Get my GED, get a job, see the country.” Jim shrugged, feeling the uncertainty morph into a feeling of emptiness. Maybe this weirdo Spock was right.

“It was also my understanding you were guardian to your brother for many years. Do you not wish to remain with family?”

At Spock’s words, Jim’s throat became tight. He didn’t want to think about being separated from Travis. He’d done a damn fine job of pretending, too. 

“Man, you are something else. I can see why no one things you’re funny.” Jim stared hard at the wooden tabletop, noticing the deep scratches and stains.

“You may be aware many humans consider Vulcans to be rude. It was not my intention to offend.” Spock leaned slightly forward and Jim glanced up at him, noticing a wrinkle between his eyebrows.

Jim took a deep breath. “Why did Pike send you here anyway? If you’re so rude to humans? Why not go somewhere where it doesn’t matter?” Jim felt mean and didn’t care. He was sick of everything.

“Captain Pike entrusted me with an important task, one he stated was of ‘intense personal importance.’ He also stated ‘If he’s anything like his mother, he’ll be a handful’.” Spock’s intonation changed as he quoted Chris Pike and it was so funny Jim found himself chuckling.

Taking a deeper breath, Jim felt some of the anger flow out of him. “All right. All right. I’m giving you a hard time and being just as rude. I get it. Chris knew my parents and he’s a nice guy. He just…he doesn’t know what it was like for us. How fucking awful Frank was and now I’m just supposed to be happy I’m Jim…Kirk? Son of a dead Starfleet hero?” Jim leaned back and slapped his thighs with his palms. “What am I supposed to do with that?”

“I must admit I do not know.” Spock answered, eyes oddly troubled.

Jim pointed at him and gave a wry smile. “You and me both, Spock. You and me both…”

~*~

For the next two days, Jim slept a lot and when he was feeling energized, focused on getting his life into some kind of order. He cleaned their entire house, or at least as much as he could considering it was half-falling down. He packed all of Travis’s things and his own and he’d kept Frank’s door securely closed. He wasn’t ready to go inside, be reminded of his smell and his things and to maybe find something that made it all worse. Frank had always been someone with secrets and Jim had learned to be the same. Don’t say a thing. Don’t trust anyone. But Jim still did, only in his heart, but not with words. 

It struck him oddly that he felt like he could trust Pike and the Vulcan, Spock, even though he’d only just met them. It was weird, he thought as he put the last load of laundry into the noisy dryer, they felt more real than most of the people he’d met with Frank. Like he could believe them because they somehow knew who he really was. It was unsettling, but he felt drawn to it. 

_Jim Kirk_ , he said, his last name feeling abrupt and short compared to Hargrove. He repeated it a couple more times and even practiced saying hello to an invisible stranger, and then he laughed and smacked himself, before pretending it never happened. Pike had said there was no rush. He didn’t have to change anything if he didn’t want to. 

Before lunch, Jim threw on his running shoes and headed out the back door to go down to the stream. As he tied the laces, he heard the rumble of a vehicle and paused, craning his neck to see through the back door through the house to the front screen door. It was a white van he didn’t recognize.

Jim stood slowly and hopped off the porch, sliding sideways along the edge and around the far side of the house. The tall shrubs and weeds covered him as he moved in a half crouch. He hid alongside the front porch and suppressed a gasp. KXVV news. What the actual fuck? A slick-haired reporter in a gray suit emerged from the van, and another, round hairy guy with a news camera, hopped out of the back. 

Watching and holding his breath, Jim saw them take the stairs and heard the loud knock.

“Hello!?” the reporter shouted through the front door. “Tom, the door’s open. Seems like someone’s around.”

“Come on, kid…” the reporter mumbled, knocking harder.

“You sure this is the right place?” the cameraman asked, fiddling with something in his jean’s pocket.

“Yeah. The admin at the hospital got it from the computer system. James Hargrove, 34 Mitchell Road.” 

“All right,” the reporter said, hopping off the porch. “Well, what do you want to do? Should we wait around?” 

“’Sup to you, boss. What do you think? Not much else going on and this is the story of a lifetime if we get it.” 

Jim blanched, feeling sick and hot. Both the doc and Pike had talked about the press being interested in him and Travis, but he’d kind of ignored it. Didn’t make a lot of sense at the time.

“Let’s take a look out back. Maybe we can get some exterior shots, set up the story for when he does arrive. Marlena’s going to want to do an in-depth piece and I think she’ll want viewers to see where the kids lived.”

“Yep. Better than coming back. This place is in the middle of nowhere.”

Jim pressed himself into the side of the porch between two of the more unruly shrubs that grew far above the rail. He sucked in air and watched as the two men moved around the opposite side of the porch and disappeared. Cautiously, he listened to their chatter until it faded again. When it was quiet, Jim dashed onto the porch and through the door to go inside. The old floors creaked as he moved, but he managed to close the front door and lock it before he headed toward the back.

As he did, the reporter stepped onto the porch. “There he is!” the man shouted, just as Jim slammed the door in his face. “That’s him. Shit. Roll camera!” 

Jim flattened himself against the kitchen wall next to the door and listened to the shuffling on the porch. His heart raced and he felt the burning of a cough from deep in his lungs. Fuck. Finally, he doubled over, choking to catch his breath, until the coughing fit passed. Sweaty and dizzy, he slid down the wall. He was so not ready for this.

For fifteen minutes, he listened to the reporter pounding on the door, begging, pleading, threatening, and even trying to bribe Jim to emerge. It felt intensely violating and Jim just stayed where he was, head resting against his knees with his hands over his ears. 

He’d gotten so used to the loud voices and pounding that he almost didn’t realize it had ended. He listened for the sound of anything that would help him locate the reporter and cameraman. He crawled over to the far window and peeked sideways at the porch, which was now empty. Slowly, he moved towards the front of the house, keeping low and silent. Carefully, Jim slid along on his stomach towards the front windows and poked his head up to see what was happening. 

“Shit!” Jim exclaimed and popped his head up more. It was Spock! He watched as the Vulcan spoke to the reporter and cameraman, unable to hear their voices but definitely understanding that Spock was trying to get them to stop filming. After a few moments, it seemed clear that the two men weren’t going anywhere and Spock turned abruptly and marched towards the front porch. 

Jim scrabbled to the front door and waited until he saw Spock framed in the small window. He reached up and unlocked it. A moment later, Spock strode inside and Jim heard the shouting resume again.

“Jim Kirk! Jim Kirk. Mr. Hargrove. Just a few minutes—” and then the door slammed closed.

“Jim, are you uninjured?” Spock asked, towering over him with unexpected concern on his face.

“Yeah…I’m okay. Just hiding, you know.” Jim felt foolish crouched on the floor and stood up, shielding himself from the camera’s gaze by leaning against the solidness of the door. “Are they going?”

“I expect they will be gone within the hour.”

“How do you know that?”

“They are trespassing. The local state police have been notified and I expect they will remove the reporters within the hour.” 

“Okay. But why do they care? This is some scoop for them.”

“I gave them the impression that if they departed, you would be willing to conduct an exclusive interview with them at your convenience.”

“A what? No way. How could you do that?” Jim’s face got hot again and he pushed off the door, hands on his hips.

“I gave them the impression, Jim. I did not make an agreement.” Spock tilted his head, lips slightly pursed.

“You lied. Hey, I thought Vulcans didn’t lie.”

“That is true,” Spock answered and then turned away, pale face seeming more green than usual.

“Uh, okay. I don’t know what’s going on, but as long as they leave and I don’t have to see them, that’s cool.” Jim glanced out the door again and saw the pair watching the house.

“Is there a room on this floor without windows?” Spock asked.

“No, but we can go upstairs. My room’s in the back and there’s a giant tree up against the windows.”

“That will be adequate. We can remain there until the authorities remove the news crew.”

Jim led them upstairs and glanced out his bedroom windows. Not much to see. “How did you know they were here, anyway?” Jim asked before he flopped onto the bed.

“I established a notification subroutine in the medical record system at Mercy Hospital. I was notified when your personal information was accessed after your discharge. Two hours and nine minutes ago, it was accessed by Niall Bronson. He was surprisingly willing to answer my questions.”

“Well, duh. Have you seen yourself? You’re intimidating as fuck.” Jim exaggerated a shudder and grinned.

“Hmm,” Spock answered and avoided Jim’s eyes.

Jim frowned. “Hey, I’m just joking. Well, I mean you are intimidating. You’re a Vulcan, man. They have a reputation, you know? But you’re not really scary. I mean, I think you’re nice. I like you.” Jim’s eyes widened as the words tumbled out of his mouth.

Spock’s eyes widened, too. 

“Shit. I talk too much.” And he hadn’t really meant anything by it. He did like Spock and he sure as hell liked that he’d come and tried to make the reporters go away. 

Spock didn’t answer, but Jim thought he detected amusement in his eyes. People always said Vulcans never expressed emotions, but Spock didn’t seem that way to Jim.

“So, you want to sit? I only have the bed, but I can sit on the floor or something. Also, I don’t bite.” Jim slid up toward the pillows and watched as Spock tilted his head and sat stiffly on the edge.

They fell into an awkward silence and Jim chewed at his cuticles. After a few minutes, he couldn’t stop himself from talking. “What do you want to do now? You play cards?” 

“Negative. However, I do play chess.” Spock said, glancing Jim’s way.

“Ah, nice. I have a chess set. It’s tiny, but it has all the pieces.” Jim dug in his backpack and pulled out a folding chess set and set it up between them on the bed. “You want black or white?”

“Your choice,” Spock answered and adjusted his position on the bed so he could face Jim. “Have you played long?”

“A while. I’ve tried to teach Travis, but he’d rather tell stories about the pieces than play.” Jim smiled, thinking of all of the hours the two of them had spent waiting for Frank and playing chess. The thought of it made him a little sad, too. 

Jim chose black and Spock move first. Jim answered his move and the game progressed quickly until it seemed that neither had a clear advantage. “You are quite good, Jim. Who was your instructor?”

Tucking his head down, Jim focused on the board. “Uh, no one. I watched some holos and read a few strategy books. It just makes sense, I guess. You’re good, too. You been playing long?”

“I learned to play chess when I arrived at Starfleet Academy. We do not play chess on Vulcan.” Spock moved and threatened Jim’s queen.

Smiling slightly, Jim let the pattern of Spock’s moves flow out in his mind until he’d figured it out. Jim moved his queen and captured Spock’s rook, blocking the strategy.

Spock blinked at him. “You are familiar with the Kerchev Maneuver? I believe I will be in checkmate in two moves.”

“The what? No.” Jim shrugged, embarrassed. “I don’t know. I think it’s fun to try to figure out your opponent’s strategy. You play really logically.” He chuckled. “But I guess that’s the way it would be, I mean for Vulcans, right? Logical.”

“That is correct. Vulcans endeavor to be logical at all times. A trait not shared by humans or most other races.”

“I guess that’s pretty cool. I don’t think I’m all that logical.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “Your self-assessment is accurate.”

Jim grinned. “Are you teasing me?” He felt himself glowing at Spock’s humor and attention. All the bad things he’d heard about Vulcans really weren’t true. 

When Spock’s lips twitched, Jim was fascinated. “You’re pretty cool, you know that?” 

“Thank you, Jim.” Spock said, holding his eyes, then dropping them with a greenish flush in his cheeks.

~*~

It actually took two hours for the news van to finally move off and for Jim and Spock to emerge from the house. The trooper who had responded was the same one that Jim remembered from the week before when they’d come for him and Travis. He remembered that he’d stayed with Travis, said he had a kid his age.

“Good to see you again, Jim. Glad you’re okay. We’ll do our best to see they don’t bother you anymore. You staying around here?” Trooper Mills said with a glance at Spock.

Jim shrugged and dug his hands into the loose pockets of his running shorts. “Not sure yet. Travis is going with my grandma, I guess. They live on Altus III,” Jim said, realizing as he spoke how strange it was to be talking openly about his life.

“Ah, I see,” the trooper said. “You’re not going with him?”

“I, uh. I’m not sure. I’m gonna be eighteen in a couple of weeks.” Jim blushed. “I guess I have some things to figure out.” 

Trooper Mills smiled. “You’ll figure it out. I am sure this has been a lot to take in.”

“Yeah. I never expected to be famous,” Jim gave an awkward chuckle, not really sure what to make of it. “I don’t really want to see them, though. I mean, I want to know about my dad and maybe go visit Starfleet. Can’t really do that on Altus III.” And once Jim said the words he really understood why he had been hesitating so much. It was like having a feast when you were starving, but turning away to be hungry instead. For so long, he’d felt out of place, not Frank’s son, not fully Travis’s brother. Never staying in one place for long. Starfleet seemed like a place he might be truly welcome.

The trooper shook his head. “Nope, I guess you’re right.” He stepped over to his car and opened the door. “I’ll contact you right away, Lieutenant Spock, if we see the reporters heading your way. I have your comm number.

“That would be appreciated,” Spock answered. “Thank you for your assistance.”

“My pleasure.” He glanced at Jim. “You take care, Jim. Maybe we’ll see you around.” 

“Yeah. Thanks.” Jim watched as the officer pulled away, leaving a stream of dust kicked up behind his cruiser.

Jim glanced at Spock, who was staring at him. “What?”

“You are interested in Starfleet?” He tilted his head at Jim.

“Yeah, I guess. I mean, I don’t know anything about it except what most people know. My mom and dad both loved it, or so Pike said. So, maybe so would I?” Jim flushed, feeling like more of a teenage boy than he usually did. Spock seemed so put together and here he was fumbling around to figure out the most basic things.

“I believe you would be welcome at Starfleet, Jim. Captain Pike authorized me to arrange a visit at your convenience.”

“Really? Like a free trip?” San Francisco was far away and Jim had no car.

“Yes. Starfleet would provide transportation, quarters, and meals.” 

“Wow. That’s cool.” Jim gave a half-smile, suddenly feeling a little overwhelmed. He hadn’t even decided if he was going to Altus III and now he had a shot at Starfleet? There was so much he didn’t know.

Jim stood next to Spock for long minutes, mind spinning with possibilities. “You know, I don’t really know what I want right now. Just a week ago I was making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for Travis and now I have a different last name and a superhero father. It’s crazy.” 

“I can see the difficulty, Jim. Can I be of assistance?” Spock’s voice was so sincere that Jim blinked. 

“Uh, no. I mean, I’m glad you here. You’re easy to talk to.” He jammed his fists harder into his pockets. 

“I am gratified to assist you, as well, Jim.” 

~*~

Mr. Yon sat across from Jim and Travis in his small office. It was decorated sparsely, but had a wide low table in the corner filled with colorful games, blocks, and toys. 

“Jim, your grandmother, Verania Fisher, is on a transport and expected to arrive in Illinois in three days. She will be staying at a local hotel and I have some thoughts about how to introduce you to her. First, I wanted to see how you’ve been feeling the past few days.”

Jim glanced at Travis. “I, uh, I’ve been okay. I’m feeling a lot better. Did Travis tell you that yesterday he managed to _barely_ beat me in table tennis?”

Mr. Yon smiled through his beard. “Yes, he was pretty excited.” 

Next to him Travis beamed. “Sucker…” 

“Travis!” Jim said, blushing. He was a terrible influence on his younger brother.

“It’s fine, Jim. Travis said you both had a good time, but he also expressed some concerns. Travis, do you want to tell Jim how you’ve been feeling since you saw him last?”

The boy squirmed in his chair and Jim felt himself tense. “What’s up, buddy?”

“It’s nothing. Just, you mentioned Starfleet…” The boy faltered and looked at Mr. Yon.

“And what did that make you think about Travis?” the social worker asked.

“It seems like you don’t want to meet grandma. Or go to Altus III. Why not?” Travis looked at Jim with the saddest expression, and his heart ripped.

“I…I don’t know, Trav.” Jim rubbed his hands on his thighs. He hadn’t decided anything, but he didn’t want to hurt his brother. “It’s not that I don’t want to go…I guess I’m having trouble dealing with everything. It’s weird to find out your dad wasn’t a bum who left your mom when you were born.” 

Travis started to cry. “I don’t want you to stay. You have to come, Jim. You said we were a team.”

Jim felt the blood drain out of his face. “No, Travis. I’m sorry. Shit.” He picked up his chair and moved it right next to Travis’s. “Aw, buddy.” Jim put his arm around his brother, wanting so badly to tell him he would go, but not wanting to lie either. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to figure it out.” Jim looked over Travis’s head to Mr. Yon who was looking on with sympathetic eyes. Jim had no idea how to deal with this. 

Travis cried a little more and Jim stroked his back. “Why don’t we see how things go with grandma. I think Mr. Yon said you have a choice, too, right? That you don’t have to go with her if you don’t want.”

“Yeah, but I can’t stay with you either?” the boy whined, wiping his eyes.

“Travis, look. We’ll figure it out. We always do, right?” Jim could barely get the words out. He felt so fucking lost.

His brother looked at Mr. Yon. “I get to decide, right?”

“Yes, Travis, you have input into the decision. I have spoken to your grandmother and she is a very nice woman. But if it doesn’t seem like it will work, I promised to be honest with you and I’ll listen to what you have to say, okay?” Jim heard the hesitation in Mr. Yon’s voice and knew that Travis didn’t really have the choice the boy hoped for. It twisted something inside Jim that made him feel like the most selfish bastard ever.

“I’m sorry, Travis. We’ll figure it out. I promise.” Jim held back his own tears and put on a brave face.

~*~

Jim left Travis with Mr. Yon as the pair headed to Travis’s foster parents’ for dinner. At the advice of Mr. Yon, Jim had been seeing Travis less—letting him bond with the family and prepare for his grandmother’s arrival. Jim wasn’t sure how he felt about any of it.

In three days, he’d meet the only family he had and probably throw up. He was afraid of a million things and didn’t want to deal with any of them. For the first time he could ever remember, he was grateful that he didn’t have to keep pretending for Travis. He was fucking miserable.

As Jim exited the counseling center, a man’s voice called to him from the reception desk. “Mr. Hargrove?”

“Yeah? Call me Jim, please.” He gave the attractive blond a friendly smile.

“There’s a call for you. Lieutenant Spock?”

“Oh, okay.” Jim reached out for the receiver, feeling awkward to speak to Spock in front of the reception guy.

He pointed to an empty room across the hall. “You can take it in there, if you want.”

Jim slipped in and closed the door, picking up the line as it began to ring. “Spock?”

“Jim. I am gratified to catch you before leaving. There is a matter I would like to discuss with you. Are you available to join me for dinner this evening?”

Jim blinked and felt his heart jump a beat. “Yeah. That would be good. Where?”

Spock named the restaurant and Jim said his goodbye, trying to suppress a grin and feeling so excited he was going to see him again. 

Half an hour later, Jim had walked the five blocks to a Thai place and strode inside to see Spock sitting straight-backed near the entrance. 

“Spock, hey,” he said, slightly breathless, staring at the way his body moved as he stood to greet him.

“Good evening, Jim. I hope this restaurant is satisfactory.” Spock waited for him to sit and then did the same.

“Yeah. I like Thai food. What’ve you been up to today?” Jim unrolled his silverware from the napkin and put it on the table with a clank.

“I have been in communication with Captain Pike, which is what I wanted to talk to you about. Shall we order first?”

The waitress appeared a moment later and Jim got his favorite beef and vegetables with chili paste and spicy number ten. 

“I was not aware that you enjoyed spicy food. Vulcan is well-known for a variety of dishes that are often too hot for human consumption.” Spock had ordered a Thai salad with tofu.

“Bring it. I’d love to try it.” Jim grinned and let his eyes linger on Spock’s for a long second before absently rearranging his silverware again. “So what did you want to talk to me about?”

“As I mentioned, I spoke with Captain Pike this morning and told him of your curiosity about Starfleet. He indicated I should apprise you of the enrollment process and the upcoming deadlines for the new academic year.”

“What do you mean? Enrollment? I thought we were talking about a visit.” Jim sat back in his chair and stared at Spock. It was one thing to want to suss out your parents’ history but to enroll? Like join? Now that Spock was actually talking about it, Jim felt a little queasy.

“I apologize, Jim. I was under the impression that you were interested in pursuing a career at Starfleet.” Spock’s body became tense.

“Yeah, no. I—it’s just that I haven’t really thought about it. What I said yesterday, that was just me thinking out loud. I might still go to Altus III with Travis, still have to meet my grandmother… I have no idea what I want to do, Spock. I’m sorry.” Jim squirmed under Spock’s stare. It was not unkind, but Jim felt the starkness of their differences.

“An apology is illogical, Jim. I am not adept at interpreting all human utterances. Your interest appeared to me as a desire to become a Starfleet member, like your parents. I can see now that I made an assumption. It is I who should apologize to you.” Spock tilted his head and appeared troubled.

Jim impulsively reached out a hand and touched Spock’s where it lay on the table. “No, really, it’s not a big deal. I’m a mess right now. I just have to think about it. Gimme a couple of days, okay?” 

Spock nodded and dropped his eyes to Jim’s hand on his. When Jim noticed, he pulled his hand away. “Oh, sorry.” And then he laughed. “Man, we’re apologizing to death here. Let’s just relax, okay? You’re fine, I’m fine. We’re all fine!” Jim spread his arms out and grinned. He was so done with awkward.

“As you wish, Jim,” Spock answered, his face a little green and eyes not quite meeting his. 

“So, tell me about Starfleet.” At Spock’s raised eyebrows, Jim chuckled. “Yeah, I know. Just tell me. What do you like about it? Why did you go there? I thought there was some Vulcan Science Academy that was like the best place in the universe for smart people.”

“Indeed. The Vulcan Science Academy is renowned for its rigor and focus on science, mathematics, and physics, but it lacked the whole-universe view that I was seeking when I was considering my career choice.”

“What do you mean, whole-universe view? Physics is pretty universal.” Jim glanced up when the waitress brought their food.

“That is true. As you may know, my father is the Vulcan Ambassador to Earth. It is through my association with him, and … others, that I became interested in cultures outside Vulcan. Our race has often been described as insular and it took many generations to finally agree to become part of the Federation. The Vulcan way is rigid and uncompromising and had I chosen to study at the VSA, I would not have had the opportunities I now do to meet and learn about other cultures and to experience a world that is unlike my own. I find it fascinating.”

“Wow. That’s so cool. You really know what you want, Spock. That’s great.” Jim smiled, but it felt pasted, and he couldn’t help but compare himself to Spock. 

“I did not have many choices, Jim. Vulcans do not have the freedom to choose in the way that humans do. At an early age, our minds are assessed by education specialists and recommended areas of study are cultivated. It is rare that a Vulcan should pursue something other than what has been chosen for him or her.” Spock’s eyes grew distant and he looked away to arrange his salad with his chopsticks.

“Is that what you did? Choose something else by signing up for Starfleet?” Jim asked.

“It is.” Spock ate a bite of salad and glanced up at him. 

“Were your parents mad?” Jim asked, finally remembering the food in front of him. 

“My father was…concerned. My mother supported my choice.”

“Huh. So, did you choose the right thing? Like, you’re happy at Starfleet?” Jim swallowed a big bite and the spiciness burned the back of his throat. He grabbed for the water and drank.

“My choice was logical. And beyond that, I can attest to a measure of satisfaction at Starfleet. I find teaching gratifying and my work with Captain Pike has afforded me opportunities to study other cultures in great detail. So, yes, in your terms, I would say I am happy at Starfleet.” 

“Cool,” Jim said, realizing that he could listen to Spock talk for days. His voice had a low timbre that kind of did things to Jim’s insides. Good things.

The two chatted more about Starfleet and Jim started to relax. Spock wasn’t judging him for not knowing what he wanted to do with his life and was patient about answering all of his questions. Jim didn’t ask about enrollment or any of those official things, but it was fun to learn about Spock and his perspective. Well, actually, it was fucking fascinating and he was disappointed when the check finally came and they were ending their meal.

By the time they left the restaurant, it was dark, and when Jim checked his watch, he saw that it had been nearly three hours of them talking. Wow. And man, he could do another three easy. He really liked him.

“Look, I know you probably have things to do, but, uh, you want to go somewhere else? I mean, keep talking?” Jim’s face turned red, but he kept his eyes pinned to Spock’s. He wanted to know if he might be feeling this same thing.

“Yes. Where would you like to go?” Spock glanced around them, but most of the businesses were closed. A couple of bars flashed their neon signs, but Jim was too young to drink. 

Jim shrugged, feeling unsure. “I don’t know. We could go back to my place. Sit on the porch? It’s a nice night.” Jim felt a rush of excitement at the thought of being alone with Spock.

“The temperature is pleasant. I can drive us there. My vehicle is this way.” Spock’s voice sounded a little weird, but Jim nodded and followed.

~*~

It was nearly ten by the time Jim and Spock arrived at his place. The drive there had been a continuation of their earlier conversation, with Jim peppering in more about the town as they passed various landmarks. It felt good to actually talk about himself in more than tiny bits when someone asked a direct question.

There was no sign of the reporters as they approached Mitchell Road, and Jim let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“You are concerned about the press, Jim?” Spock asked as he drove. 

“A little. I mean I think they’re going to ask me a bunch of questions I don’t have answers for. I don’t know anything about my parents or about Frank. It’s all a mystery.”

“Will you speak to your grandmother about your mother? Learn more about her?”

“Yeah, I guess. I don’t know. It’s like I’m supposed to instantly love her or something, but I don’t even know her.” Jim slumped lower into the passenger seat and toyed with the window control button.

“Loving someone before you have met them is illogical.” 

“Yeah, right?” Jim thumped his head against the window. He really was dreading his grandmother’s visit. In so many ways, he had learned to just forget about Winona and now, he was going to have to relive it. Her death, everything with Frank, thinking about this real dad of his who’d died a hero. He had no fucking idea what to do or how to do it. It was overwhelming.

When Spock finally reached the driveway and parked, Jim jumped out of the car, fishing his keys out of his pocket and striding up the steps onto the porch. “I’ll be right back. Have a seat. You want iced tea?” 

“Jim?” Spock asked, from the lawn, his face illuminated by the yellow bulb of the porch light.

“Are you well?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Just give me a minute.” Jim sped into the hallway and flicked on the lamp. He was feeling more unsettled than he wanted to admit. Maybe it was just the tiredness of the day, Travis’s crying and being upset with him, the prospect of Starfleet and his grandmother and now Spock was here. Jim felt his heart beating fast and he took a deep breath. Fuck, what was wrong with him?

He climbed the steps two at a time and went into the bathroom and closed the door. He sat on the toilet seat lid and put his head between his legs, feeling his heart pulsing in his ears. He wanted Spock to come back with him and now he was sitting alone, feeling frightened and worried and so flooded that he couldn’t think straight.

He must have taken much longer than he realized and he heard the floor creaking and a soft knock on the door. “Jim? Are you okay?”

Jim stood up and splashed water onto his face. “Yeah, one minute.” He patted it dry with a towel, grinned a fake grin into the mirror and opened the door.

“Sorry. Guess that food didn’t sit right with me,” Jim lied and brushed past Spock to stand in the hallway. He wanted to tell him the truth, but after so many years, the deepest truths stayed silent.

“You are pale. Can I offer assistance?” Spock turned and reached out to squeeze Jim’s arm.

Jim paused, mouth open, wanting to speak, _needing_ to tell Spock about everything. Instead, he lurched forward and kissed Spock hard on the lips.

The Vulcan froze and then pulled Jim against him and deepened the kiss. It felt completely right in all the best ways. Spock’s lips were warm and soft and his mouth tasted spicy like the Thai food and something else that he was sure was just Spock. 

Jim slid his hands up to touch the fine short hairs on the back of Spock’s neck, and to skim over his broad shoulders and taut muscled arms. His mouth explored like his hands, touching Spock’s lips and face and chin. He found himself wanting to kiss him everywhere he possibly could. 

The worries Jim had fled his mind, replaced by the way Spock felt against him, the solidness of his body, the secure feeling Jim had when he was with him, the heat of his skin. Jim ground himself against Spock’s hip, feeling an answering hardness against his own. Jim reached down and touched the line of his erection. He had no idea what a Vulcan dick was like, but my god he wanted to find out.

“Jim. Jim,” Spock breathed and pulled slightly away. “You are emotionally compromised. I…am emotionally compromised. We must stop.” Spock said the words as his hand continued to hold Jim tightly, their breath mingling between them.

“Why? No, I don’t want to. I need this. Fuck, please, Spock.” It had been a year since Jim had been with anyone and that had only lasted a few weeks until Frank found out and had pushed him into a part-time job right after school and on the weekends, too. The guy, Brent, had decided to move on. Jim hadn’t blamed him. 

Spock groaned and kissed Jim again, thrusting his tongue into Jim’s mouth and threading his fingers through his hair. Jim answered by squeezing Spock’s ass, digging his fingertips into the taut muscles. 

“Fuck, Spock. I am crazy about you. I can’t believe after all the shit that went down, you are here. It’s like it was supposed to happen this way.” Jim groaned when Spock’s hand found his dick and squeezed. His mind blanked with lust and he thrust automatically against his palm. 

“You are so fucking hot,” Jim breathed, sliding his fingers under Spock’s shirt to touch the soft thatch of hairs that covered Spock’s chest. His mouth roamed Spock’s neck, mouthing gently up to his sexy ears, laving the tips with his tongue and lips. He was so fucking ready to burst and he yanked himself away. 

“Come with me,” he said, spinning around and yanking Spock with him to his room. He pushed Spock down onto the bed and they rolled together until Spock was on top of him, pulling off his shirt and pants and leaving him writhing against Spock in just a pair of gray briefs.

“You, naked, now. Fuck,” Jim said, grasping at Spock’s waistband to yank at his pants. Spock grew very still all of the sudden.

“Jim, you are not yet eighteen. What am I doing?” Spock took a deep breath and climbed off Jim to stand, his face pale. 

“What? No. Shit. The age of consent is sixteen, Spock. And I am going to be eighteen in eleven days. Stop it and come here already.” Jim nudged Spock’s leg with his toe. 

“Jim, please. Understand. I—I cannot. I must go.” Spock pulled his pants closed and turned quickly to leave the room. 

“Spock! Come on, Spock,” Jim cried out. What the fucking hell? He grabbed his own pants and slid them on, his dick so hard he thought it was going to break. He sped down the steps after the Vulcan and slammed the screen door open. Spock was halfway to his car by the time Jim caught up with him and grabbed his arm.

“Spock, what are you doing? Don’t leave. What’s going on with you?” Jim held onto Spock’s arm and didn’t let go. He knew the Vulcan could shake him off, but he didn’t.

“Jim,” Spock started, his voice rough. “I was sent here to protect you, to ensure that you were safe until the authorities could determine your fate. This is not protection. I am taking advantage of your emotionally compromised state.” Spock’s voice and face were so pained that Jim instantly sobered. 

“Hey, no. It’s not like that. God, Spock. I’m not a kid. I know my birth certificate, for what it’s even worth, says I’m seventeen, but damnit, I’ve been grown up since fourteen when I had to drive a drunk-ass Frank two hundred miles to see some jerkbag who owed him money. I don’t even remember being a kid, Spock. Don’t you get that? I don’t care what the numbers say, I can make my own decisions. I like you. I like you a lot and in a couple of days, my life is going to turn upside down again and you are the only thing that has seemed right. The ONLY thing. Don’t lose it, Spock. I don’t want to lose it. Please.” Jim stepped closer and slid his arms gently around Spock’s middle. He didn’t care about the sex, he just wanted to be close to him. 

“Jim…” Spock said, growling from deep inside his body, his arms staying pinned to his sides. “I have never met anyone like you before. You are so brave and capable and I cannot believe the person you have become after the life you have been forced to live. I don’t want to leave you.” Then Spock wrapped his arms around Jim’s shoulders, embracing him and holding him tightly. 

Jim reveled in their closeness, letting his desire cool and basking in the warmth of Spock’s body in the cooling breeze. 

“Will you stay with me?” Jim asked leaning back to catch Spock’s gaze. “Nothing funny, just stay. I can sleep on the sofa, or you can sleep in Travis’s room. Just, please. There isn’t much time for us.” 

“Yes, ashayam,” Spock said, and stroked Jim’s cheek. “I will stay.”

**EPILOGUE**

Jim strode onto the Starfleet campus with a shiny new comm, a backpack full of supplies, and a grin. It had taken six months to finally get here, but he was so excited he could barely breathe. 

He made his way to Grenier Hall and up the three flights of stairs to office 322. He heard voices inside and paused, waiting. He glanced inside, seeing the red cadet uniform of a blonde female student. He listened from just outside the door and felt a chill at the deep baritone of Spock’s voice as he answered her questions. It lasted only a few minutes and the cadet rushed out of his office, face as red as her uniform. 

Jim moved silently into the doorway and stared at Spock’s lean frame and firm ass in his black instructor uniform. Spock turned slightly, but could not see it was him. “My office hours are over. Please come back at oh-nine-hundred tomorrow morning.”

“Nah, I think I’ll stay,” Jim said, and punctuated his words by slamming the door closed.

“Jim!” Spock said, eyes widening in surprise. Jim might have also seen the briefest of smiles flicker on Spock’s lips.

They rushed toward each other, a tangle of limbs and lips and hands touching and kissing everywhere they could. “Why are you here already? Your last message indicated that you would arrive on Friday. It is Thursday.” Spock’s voice was breathless.

“I lied,” Jim said simply. “I wanted to surprise you.” Jim kissed along Spock’s jaw, tugging at his ear with his teeth. “Did I surprised you, Professor Spock?” he asked, sliding a hand against Spock’s obvious erection.

“I believe the answer to that question is obvious, Cadet Kirk.”

“Mmm. Yes, it sure is.” Jim used both hands to open Spock’s trousers and yank them down, then his own. “I have waited half a year to get you naked. Now, Spock.” Jim grinned at the growl that burst from Spock’s throat and nearly shrieked when Spock lifted him up completely and carried him to the leather sofa. Jim laughed and kissed Spock hard on the mouth. “Fuck, I missed you.”

“And I you, ashayam,” he answered, fingers undoing the buttons of Jim’s uniform jacket and pushing it off. Soon, they were skin to skin, sliding against each other, no more waiting, no more months of messages and holos to keep them together. It was now and real and mindblowingly fucking hot.

“Spock, fuck. My backpack,” Jim said, motioning when Spock began to grind against him. He wanted to be fucked. No hand job or blow job. He’d been dreaming of Spock inside him for too many months to wait. “Lube…condom. Come on.” He nudged the heavy Vulcan and Spock grabbed the pack and dragged it to the sofa. 

Jim pulled Spock down again with one hand and dug into the pack with another. He’d been planning this for hours and was more than ready. Jim stroked Spock’s dick a few times until it was hard and then slid the condom on. Spock stared at him with eyes so dark that Jim could not see the pupils. Spock squirted lube onto his fingers and stroked Jim’s dick before sliding down to cup his balls and probe at his entrance. Spock gasped to find him loose.

“What, you think I was going to have the patience for that? Fuck no way. I want you now, hard, here. I have missed you so much.” In the six months they’d been apart, Jim figured out exactly what he wanted, and Spock was a very big part of that. He’d faced his demons about his mother, bonded with his grandmother, and knew inside and out that Travis would be okay. Now was his time.

“Come on, Spock. I need you.” Jim pulled his lover down to kiss him again, pressing their chests together, and touching him everywhere. Spock tilted his hips up and Jim felt the wet warmth of Spock’s dick against his ass. He sucked in a breath when Spock pushed inside, then relaxed and opened himself up. He felt the burn, the intense pressure that he longed for, and groaned as Spock pushed in slowly, so fucking slowly that Jim was ready to scream.

“Spock, fuck, Spock, please,” he crooned, but Spock covered his mouth with his own to silence him. Jim pulled at Spock’s torso and hips, but Spock was in control and when he broke their kiss, he met Spock’s eyes, intense and black and full of need. 

“I, too, have thought of this, imagined how it might be. I love you, Jim. Your presence here makes my life complete.” With that, he thrust in harder, pushing in to slam against Jim’s prostate, and Jim gasp-moaned into Spock’s mouth.

“Fuck, yes. I wanted to tell you. I wasn’t sure how you felt. It’s been so—” Jim gasped again when Spock pulled out and then pushed in again. The words were at the front of his mind, but his body called to him, needing and wanting. Jim tilted his hips up, needing more of Spock, and he grabbed his ass, pulling him deep. “Harder, please harder. Oh, god. I need you.” Jim bit Spock’s shoulder, hard enough to mark and Spock gripped Jim’s hips, thrusting deeply and then again and again, until Jim was mindless with sensation and the coiling pressure of release. 

“Oh, fuck, Spock, I’m going to come.” Spock reached between their bodies and stroked Jim, his hand slick and hot. Jim cried out, coming between them in a wave of white hot ecstasy. “Spock!” he shouted, his voice muffled into Spock’s neck as the Vulcan drove into him, breath hot against his shoulder.

Spock’s hips stuttered and he groaned, mouth latched onto Jim’s neck. “Ashayam,” Spock grated and Jim felt him stiffen and imagined the burst of come spilling out of him. 

Jim squeezed Spock as tightly as he could before his body felt so tired that he couldn’t hold his arms around him a second longer. Spock pulled out and lifted off Jim to dispose of the condom and wipe them off with a wad of tissues. He settled down behind Jim on the narrow leather sofa and spooned behind him, their bodies pressed together. 

Jim threaded his fingers through Spock’s and kissed each knuckle. “I love you, too, Spock. I missed you.”

“Welcome home, Jim.”


End file.
